


In the House of Odin

by Hero_in_a_hoodie



Series: Lady Loki of Asgard [1]
Category: Norse Religion & Lore, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Battle wounds, Breastfeeding, Brunnhilde is a good bro, Disfigurement, Female Loki, Female Relationships, Frost Giant Loki, Gen, Hela fought alongside the Valkyrie, Hela founded the Valkyrie, Hela needs a hug, Implied Romance, Jötunn Loki, MCU inspired, Not MCU compliant, Prequel to main plotline, Self-Harm, Thor Is a Good Bro, Weather Magic, aftermath of war, baby Loki, baby talk, big sister & middle brother & little sister, infant illness, large age gap between siblings, new baby in family, parent/child relationships, sibling relationships, sickness and care, teenager Brunnhilde, teenager Hela, toddler Thor, wine and alcohol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-13 23:14:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13580970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hero_in_a_hoodie/pseuds/Hero_in_a_hoodie
Summary: When King Odin brings home an orphaned baby girl from Jotunnheim, the members of his family have a variety of reactions. This is the first work in a series about the life of Lady Loki.





	1. Father's Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "This child is now of the house of Odin."

The king stood victorious on the icy battlefield. Snowflakes silently drifted down on the giant blue corpses scattered around. The shield-maiden at his side laid a hand on his arm. “All-Father, the battle is over. Jotunheim has fallen.”

Silently, he surveyed the cold landscape with one good eye, the other already crusting over with dried blood.

His own warriors came forth, bloody and hobbling. A third, maybe, of those he had led into this campaign two years prior, were now gathered before their king. Not one of them supported another with worse injury. Indeed, only those who still stood, still lived.

“The war is over,” he told them, not knowing what other words to say. “Peace has been won for the Nine Realms. Asgard reigns.”

“Hail, All-Father! Asgard reigns!”

The cry had not faded into the winter sky before another sound reached his ears: an infant’s squall—thin, faint, and weak. It was underfoot.

His warriors looked around in alarm and confusion, but it was his shield-maiden who pushed over a nearby corpse and uncovered the source. Wrapped in a blanket of furs and bound to the back of a slain giantess was a tiny blue baby.

The king motioned for his shield-maiden to bring him the Jotun baby. She laid it in his arms as his warriors exchanged whispers. “Who are you, wee giant?” the king crooned, and the child finally quieted.

One of his warriors answered him, saying, “This woman was Loki, Laufey’s queen. She led his forces for half a year after he fell at Utgard. Now she too is slain.”

“Then this child is the next liege of Jotunheim,” the king said, more to himself than to his followers. There was a dagger in his other hand, and he lifted it high. Most of his warriors looked away.

“By the Norns, that stings.” Blood and golden ichor flowed from the new wound in the king’s own arm. He let the dagger drop to the snow, and with two fingers, swiped at the liquid and brought it to the baby’s open mouth. It sucked on his bloody fingers. “Drink, and be strong.”

His shield-maiden bent to retrieve the dagger, and held it out to the king in exchange for the child in his arms. He shook his head, pulling his cloak around wounded arm and Jotun baby both. “This child is now of the house of Odin. Come, we will return to Asgard.”

***

“Father has returned with what’s left of his army,” Hela strode unannounced into her mother’s chambers, still wearing her muddy boots from the training grounds.

Frigga set down her embroidery to flick a finger at the floor. Once again it sparkled clean, and the leather boots became supple and shiny. “I’m aware. Heimdall sent a message half-an-hour ago. I shall be down presently with your brother.”

“They say that Jotunheim is fully subdued.” With a huff, Hela sat down on the couch beside her mother. Her hand went to her bandaged temple for a moment, and the uncovered side of her face grew pale with pain. Then she continued, “That the war is won!”

Frigga noticed the anger in her daughter’s voice. “This news upsets you,” she said calmly, “Why?”

“Because Father couldn’t _wait_ one more month for me to recover. I should have been at Odin’s side for the final battle. Argh! I have half a mind to go to Jotunheim, and—”

“—This victory ought to bring you peace, my daughter, not a foolish desire to continue fighting.” Mother and daughter locked eyes.

It could have been the start of another one of their legendary arguments; but in the quiet, the door squeaked opened. Hela broke eye-contact first, reaching for her dagger, but released it when she saw who was coming in.

Thor, a chubby, golden-haired toddler with a runny nose, headed directly for his mother. “Figga, want up,” he asked, reaching for the queen, and she took him into her lap and wiping the snot from his nose with her own hanky. “Want ‘ella.”

The toddler reached for his teenage sister, but she batted the small hand away with a scoff. “I’m not holding him while he’s sick,” Hela declared.

Frigga frowned at her petulant daughter, but smiled when Thor looked back up at her and asked, “Horses, men, ‘umpets. It’s battle?”

“Those are your father’s warriors,” Frigga told her son as she stood up, bearing him on her hip. “He has won a great victory, Thor.”

“Great Hickory,” the little boy exclaimed.

Frigga chuckled openly and Hela hid her smile behind her hand. “That’s better than ‘Great Ash Tree’,” she remarked, following her mother out of the chamber. “This little warrior might yet defend Asgard…and I will fight at his side. I am a warrior, mother, not a witch. I don’t expect you to ever understand.”

“No, my daughter, but I hope someday you might.”

***

Frigga took her seat in the queen’s chair beside the throne of Asgard. Hela stood at ease between the two chairs, leaning slightly against her father’s throne. Thor fussed in his mother’s arms; she set him down so he could go where he pleased.

The toddler waddled over to his sister’s feet and raised his arms, again asking to be picked up, but Hela only looked down at him from the corner of her eye. Non-perturbed, Thor used all his infant strength to clamber up onto the throne.

“Thor, get down from there!” Hela whispered harshly to her little brother.

He looked at her with wide eyes. “Want up, ‘ella.”

A trumpet sounded the king’s arrival, and the massive doors to the main hall opened. Hela quickly pulled Thor off the throne as Odin marched in. He got his hands in her long, dark brown hair so she could not easily put him down.

King Odin, too, held something small in his arms. Frigga, going to embrace her husband, saw it first. “Oh, by the Norns!”

“What’s it?” Thor asked, and Hela reluctantly carried her brother over. “Blue!”

The Jotun baby slept contentedly in Odin’s arms. One tiny hand had unknowingly grasped the hem of the king’s cloak, the other thumb was in the baby’s mouth.

Odin met Frigga’s eyes. An unasked question passed between them.

In answer, Frigga softened her voice. “Whose...?” Her hand stroked the blue cheek crossed with white raised markings and rested on the fuzzy black hair. The infant shifted and stirred and opened blood-red eyes to blink up at the queen.

“Blue baby,” Thor said again. Hela just stared, but her arm tightened around her brother. “Ouch, ‘ella.”

Odin and Frigga spoke at the same time. “Will you take her?”

“Here, give her to me.” The baby passed from his arms to hers.

“Has she been fed yet?” the mother asked. “Does she need nursing?”

“She’s not tasted milk in at least a day. If our son is weaned, she may need a wet nurse.”

“I can provide for her.”

In that moment, Hela finally found her voice. “Mother! Father! You can’t possibly be thinking to _raise_ a Jotun—”

“I am the All-Father, and the head of this house!” Odin snapped back at her. “The girl stays. My decision is final.” Thor flinched in Hela’s arms at their father’s angry words, and the baby in their mother’s arms began to whimper.

Quietly, Hela added, “She’ll never be my sister.” Without another word, she set Thor on the floor and walked out through the front doors.

Odin impassively watched his daughter as she left. Then he shook his head and turned to Frigga. She was rocking the upset baby and humming a lullaby to soothe her. Thor hid behind his mother’s leg, peeking up at his father.

“Thor, my son,” Odin motioned for him, “You’ve grown so big. Come to papa, let me look at you.” The toddler only clung tighter to his mother.

“Now might not be best time, my love,” Frigga said, seeing his reluctance. “He’s tired and sick. Let me put them both to bed, and then we’ll talk before the feasting tonight.”

Odin frowned but nodded. “As you wish, my Queen.”

Frigga curtsied her good-bye and took her two children out of the throne room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first posted February 5, 2018  
> edited March 12, 2018
> 
> Besides Loki being a girl in this series, my major move off canon is having Hela still around to interact with her younger siblings. I like the contrast of a teenage sister with two babies/toddlers in the family.
> 
> And Brunnhilde is Odin's shield-maiden at the beginning of the story. The Valkyrie are coming later on.


	2. Mother's Milk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "This baby is the daughter of my enemy, but I can only pity her, knowing what her life will be like here in the house of Odin."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brunnhilde is my favorite character in this fic and in Ragnarok, and I may have a crush on Tessa Thompson. 
> 
> Next update probably on Monday.

Frigga had just lifted the contented baby, full of milk, to her shoulder to burp her, when a knock sounded at her chamber door. “Hela?” she asked, thinking it might be her disgruntled daughter. “You may join me.”

Instead, a stout, swarthy maiden stepped inside. She saluted the queen with a fist over her heart. “My Lady.”

“Brunnhilde, my friend, it’s good to see you safe in Asgard once again,” Frigga said, offering the seat beside her with a wave of her free hand.

The shield-maiden sat. “It’s good to know Asgard is safe once again.”

“We have you to thank for that, and the other warriors. I know I owe you my personal thanks for sparing my own daughter from further injury. You may ask a boon of—”

Brunnhilde would hear none of that. “—I want no boon except the continued favor of my Lady of Vanaheim. And, of course, this taste from home…” She lifted the pitcher of spiced wine from the table beside them, and poured a drink for herself.

The baby burped on Frigga’s shoulder. Brunnhilde smiled as any woman might, watching a mother care for her child. “That one’s precious.”

“She is not the plunder I would have expected my husband to carry home from Jotunheim,” Frigga admitted. “I’m not sure how I feel about raising her. I don’t even know what to name a Jotun girl-child.”

Brunnhilde sipped at her wine, mulling over her next words. “Her mother…was Queen Loki.”

“The queen?” Frigga asked, gazing at the blue baby now nestled in her arms. “That does shed some light on our king’s decision. But, Loki—Lady Loki—will do as well as any other name.”

“May I hold her? Once the All-Father got his hands on her, he wouldn’t let anyone else carry her. I think our king seriously surprised some of his warriors by insisting on changing her diaper himself.”

Frigga nodded, handing the baby to Brunnhilde. Her hand lingered once more on the black hair. “Well, he did the same for Hela. If Odin had been here in the last few years for Thor…” She lapsed into silence, dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief.

Brunnhilde cradled the baby in one arm and wrapped the other arm around the shoulder of her friend. “Frigga, I’m sorry.”

Her voice was teary as she continued, “…But you are home and whole, Brunnhilde. My husband, my daughter and my friend all came home from the war. So many fathers and mothers, husbands and wives will join the feasting tonight but still go home to empty beds.”

“You can’t blame—” Brunnhilde attempted to comfort Frigga, but the queen simply pointed to the blue baby.

“— _but I could blame her_. The people of Midgard have the term scapegoat: one who is innocent and vulnerable, who is forced to atone for the failings of others. This baby is the daughter of my enemy, but I can only pity her, knowing what her life will be like here in the house of Odin.”

***

Later that evening, when Brunnhilde sat at supper with her sisters-in-arms, she looked up occasionally at the king’s table to see that the seat to Odin’s left remained empty throughout the whole meal. Hela had not made her reappearance. Queen Frigga, seated to the right of the king, also noticed that her daughter was not in attendance.

A rumor was passing through the palace that Hela fiercely disagreed with her father over the Jotun’s adoption. That tension between King Odin and his heir presumptive disturbed the Asgardian nobles much more than the residency of a Jotun baby in the palace.

It took a mere tilt of the head from Queen Frigga for Brunnhilde to understand she ought to search out Hela before the night was through. As Hela’s friend as well as the queen’s, she could possibly reason with her, get her back in the All-Father’s good graces.

As early as it was decorous to do so, she took her departure, heading outside instead of back to the barracks. The night was moonless and dark, with fog hanging over the palace gardens.

Brunnhilde had some idea of where to find her friend, but in the end, it was Hela who found her wandering among the apple trees.

“You’re looking well.” Brunnhilde nearly jumped out of her boots, hearing Hela’s voice from the darkness. The other woman stepped into the light of the torch she held. “What, were you…surprised?”

Hela had removed her bandage. In the flickering light, the severe frost-burn down the left side of her forehead already looked gangrene. The eye below had a milky cast over it.

Brunnhilde reached out to touch her, but stopped her hand in midair. She looked away from the disfigured face. “I wanted to see you earlier. I went to your mother, but—”

“—Now you can see me,” Hela said, challenging Brunnhilde to look back at her again. “What do you think, Hilde? I’m not quite the beautiful face you remember.”

“You’ll always be beautiful to me,” she rejoined in an instant. Brunnhilde grabbed Hela’s hand and started to pull her back towards the palace. “Just come inside and talk to me. I don’t want to think that you’re mad at me.”

“Why would I be _mad_ at you? You saved my life.” Hela pried her hand away from Brunnhilde’s grip. “Stop. If you really want to talk, you’ll listen to me here and now.”

Hela took a seat on a nearby bench. Brunnhilde stood, holding the torch. She would not, or could not, turn to look at her friend.

“I am angry. Not at you, Hilde, you know that. I’m furious for a multitude of reasons, but that baby…Argh!”

“All right, tell me about it.” Brunnhilde let the torch drop from her hand, extinguishing the light, as she went to sit to the left of Hela. In the darkness, she reached over again, and Hela took her hand.

“My mother, you should’ve seen it, simply reached out to pat that blue cheek, that black hair. She didn’t give it a single thought, not considering how cold and dangerous those Jotun are. The last time one of them touched me, I could’ve frozen to death.”

“I don’t think an infant—”

“—No, you’re only going to listen right now, Hilde. You can save your thoughtful comments for a time when I’m not boiling over. Were I fire, and she ice, I’d melt her tonight.”

Hela let out a frustrated sigh, not speaking for a long moment. Brunnhilde held her tongue, but proceeded to rub a small circle on her friend’s palm.

The fog was fading into a mist-like rain. Their eyes had adjusted to the darkness, so a sudden flash of lightning left them both blinking. “Heimdall didn’t say it was going to storm later,” Brunnhilde said after the thunder had faded.

“Thor must be upset,” Hela said, with a slight smile evident in her voice. “He probably woke up and realized everyone was at the banquet without him. That boy loves to be at the center of a party.”

“Considering that you’re usually there with him, I’m not surprised…You should be in there with me, and with your mother and father.”

Hela did not reply. Instead, she took Brunnhilde’s right hand and lifted it to her own cheek, bringing it up to touch the scarred skin. After a moment, Brunnhilde reached with her other hand to cup her friend’s face, and kissed her on the forehead.

“Then I’m relieved you’re not angry at me, ‘ella, because I’m mad at myself for getting distracted and letting that Jotun injure you. We are sisters-in-arms, we’re supposed to defend each other.”

“Well, I forgive you, Hilde.”

***

Nearly an hour later, the two maidens, soaked to the bone, ran back into the feast hall. The storm had picked up and the thunder was crashing continually.

But inside, the riotous celebration drowned out the noise of the weather. Bards sang, maidens strummed, couples danced, and every warrior spouted their own tales of bravery to anyone who would listen.

King Odin had opened up the cellar vault, and honeyed mead and spiced wine were flowing freely into every cup. The tables overflowed with food, and even with half of Asgard in attendance, there would be plenty of leftovers to feed the other half the next day.

Brunnhilde snagged a goblet full of spiced wine for herself and offered a second one to Hela. She turned it down at first. “I can’t, not with the medicine the healers have given me.”

“Come on, ‘ella, you nearly died. Now live a little.” Brunnhilde was relaxed and laughing, but Hela scanned the room like a battlefield, seeking out her opponent.

She saw her mother and father seated together at the king’s table. Without a word, Hela took the cup and downed the wine in one long swallow. Then she left her friend in the middle of the feast hall.

Brunnhilde watched as Hela approached her parents. She went up to her mother, leaned in to give her a long hug, and then turned to her father. The king would not smile at first, but after she whispered a few words in his ear, he chuckled and nodded.

King Odin stood. In a matter of moments, the crowd went quiet, waiting on the All-Father’s words. “It pleases me to announce, in honor of this hard-won victory, a tournament, that any man who so distinguishes himself in feats of strength and skill may join the ranks of my Einherjar.”

A few sporadic cheers broke out, but Odin held up his hand for silence once again. “And likewise, in honor of my fearsome daughter, Hela, any suitable woman warrior may join the newly-established ranks of her Valkyrie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first posted February 9, 2018  
> edited March 12, 2018
> 
> Frigga and Brunnhilde are both from Vanaheim, not Asgard. Brunnhilde is a few years older than Hela, but she's friends with both Frigga and Hela.
> 
> The mythological character of Hel appears as a half-dead woman, one side healthy and the other side a corpse. Hela's wound from the war on Jotunheim will progress to that.
> 
> Odin's personal guards are called the Einherjar. I wanted to make the Valkyrie Hela's guard to heighten the tragedy of them later fighting and falling against her.


	3. Sister's Hate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "She’s not my sister. She never will be. But I’ll help you save her."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hela was an OK villain in the movie, but I want to show her as a great villain in this series. So she's not horrible yet, but the fall from grace will come.
> 
> Next update probably on Friday.

In a darkened nursery to the rear of the palace, Thor stood gripping the bars of his crib and howling his little head off. The impressive strikes of lightning and thunder outside timed themselves to his outbursts.

The nursemaid in the chamber beyond slept soundly through the noise, an empty mead horn beside her.

The storm raged, Thor cried, and no one came to check on him, not even his own mother Frigga, sitting contentedly at the side of a husband she had not seen in many months. Not even Hela came, for she and Brunnhilde took their leave of the party and went alone together to a secluded chamber with their own supply of food and wine.

Thor cried, and no one came, but one listened—Loki. Her little red eyes peered up at the silken canopy of her cradle, and a tiny blue hand reached for the jeweled mobile above her. The baby girl listened for a long while, but did not make a peep.

Until the toddler let out his loudest scream yet, and then had to gulp down a big breath to continue crying. In that half-instant of silence, Loki mewed.

Instantly, Thor was quieted. He looked over at Loki’s cradle, where he could see her red eyes watching him. “Blue baby? Hush, hush. No cry now.”

Loki’s innocuous mew came again, and Thor was spurred to action. The toddler reached through the bars of his crib and grabbed the lever to release the side. A quick squeeze and it crashed down and he tumbled to the floor with a laugh. Then he waddled over to Loki.

“Join you?” the toddler asked, peering down at the baby in her cradle, and he took the slight wave of her arm as an invitation. Thor gently stepped into the cradle and lay down, curling up around his new baby sister.

“All night, good night,” he said soothingly, and her red eyes slowly shut. His own tired eyes followed suit, and soon they were both asleep again.

***

In the darkened feast hall, after the last of the revelers had left for the night, King Odin stood looking out into the gardens at the predawn morning. His marred eye was already covered with a black patch, and there was a white bandage around his wounded arm.

Queen Frigga stood beside him in silence, waiting on her husband. The gauzy drapes across the doorway wavered in the calming air, and the last of the raindrops fell from the eaves, making a slight plinking noise on the marble below.

“I’ve been fighting half my life for this day,” Odin said, his gaze fixed off in the distance, where Asgard’s sun would soon appear over the Void.

“For this sunrise?” she asked. Frigga knew her husband meant more than he said, but she wanted to hear his own voice explain it.

“For peace through victory. For the honor of Asgard. For dominion over the nine realms. I’d been so sure…”

And the king faltered. His wife then asked, “What are you worrying about now, my love?”

“Hela.” The one word prompted Frigga to shake her head. Odin continued, “She is not at peace.”

Frigga sighed and agreed, “No, she is not. She is distressed now that the war is over. You have known her to be most happy on the battlefield.”

“That seems the only place she is truly happy. That is not a life…I want her fixated on.”

“And you think your example—”

“—I’ve fought to live, for security and for honor,” Odin interrupted, defended his actions. “Hela fights and kills for her own glory and the terrible joy of it.”

“Will you listen to my advice, my love?” Frigga asked, and he nodded. “Give my daughter other duties beside war. Teach her diplomacy, that the good fight may be fought with words and deeds of peace. And forbid this creation of her Valkyrie.”

It was Odin’s turn to shake his head. “This is a long-deferred desire of hers. Hela may rebel if I revoke my support.”

“And I fear she may revolt once she has gathered her own forces to her liking. Her ambition is great. The throne of Asgard may still pass to her, but Hela could reach for it before the appropriate time.”

Odin thought on that for quite some time. When he realized what Frigga was hesitant to say, he turned away from his queen. “No, she wouldn’t. No king of this dynasty has ever had to fear the hand of his own heir, not even Mad Old Bor.”

“You are better than your father, true, but Hela is far worse.”

“She would not commit patricide. By the Norns, I would not allow it!”

Odin stalked back to the royal table and took his seat. Frigga still stood by the window, and the first rays of the sun fell like gold on her auburn hair. The husband and wife locked eyes across the feast hall.

Frigga sighed. “You have fought all your life for peace, but it can fail just as easily from within.” When Odin remained silent, she turned to leave the feast hall. “Of course,” she added, “The decision is up to you, my love.”

***

In a darkened hallway, Hela stood with her hand against the door to the nursery. Beside her, the nursemaid snored on.

She opened the door slowly, quietly, stealthily. Her dagger was not in her grasp, but it was at her side. For comfort, she rested her hand upon it as she entered the nursery.

She saw the empty crib first. “Oh, Thor, what trouble are you getting into now?”

Then her eyes fell upon the cradle where the two babies slept peacefully side-by-side. In a flash, she was beside it and lifting Thor up and away from the Jotun girl.

“Figga?” the toddler asked sleepily, clinging to his older sister. “Want down, want bed.”

“Thor, you’re—” Hela checked his exposed skin for signs of frost-burn, but Thor was undamaged. “— _not injured_. She didn’t freeze you.”

“Hot, ‘ella,” Thor said instead. Hela did not understand at first. “Blue baby’s hot.”

“But she’s a Jotun.” Then Hela looked in the cradle again. The baby girl squirmed in her sleep, and there was a light sheen of sweat against her flushed skin.

“Oh.”

Hela rested her lips against Thor’s forehead, but he was cool, and even his nose was no longer running. She put him back down in his crib and closed the side. “Hush, Thor. Go back to sleep. I’ll deal with it.”

Then she picked up the feverish baby and ran out of the nursery.

***

“Mother!” Hela burst into Frigga’s bedchamber just as her mother had finished removing her jewelry to retire to bed. “The baby Jotun’s sick!”

“Loki?” Frigga could only stare at the baby girl in her daughter’s arms.

“I don’t care what you named it! But what do we do?”

“Here, give her to me.” Frigga took the baby and felt her forehead. “By the Norns, she’s burning up. Go fill the basin in the washroom with lukewarm water, and then get a light blanket from my summer chest. We’ve got to get this fever down.”

Hela followed her mother’s instructions as Frigga undressed the baby. Even now, she was still asleep, but her little face grimaced in pain and her tiny body trembled. The blue skin was hotter than a candle-flame, and it was turning splotchy with flush and pale patches across her whole body.

“Quickly, now,” Frigga told Hela. “Run and wake the healer, Madam Eir. Tell her we need an ice spell, something cooling, or Loki won’t last the night.”

Hela nodded wordlessly and turned to go, but Frigga grabbed her arm at the last moment. “Why were you there in the nursery, in the middle of the night? How did you learn she was sick?”

“Does it matter, mother?”

“It does if you really want to save this baby. You said you’d hate her.”

“I know what I said,” Hela declared. “She’s not my sister. She never will be. But I’ll help you save her. Then I'll be able to tell her myself.” With that, Hela left and Frigga went to work.

***

That night, so far gone already, passed slowly for Frigga and Hela and the team of healers that gathered around the Jotun baby. All their efforts counted for little more than naught as the fever raged on.

Midmorning found Hela sitting out in the hallway, crouched on the floor with her head between her knees. A headache beat a fiery pulse behind her scarred temple.

A man’s boots came into her view. Hela looked up, blinking, at her father carrying Thor. “What’s going on here, Hela?”

“The baby you brought home…it’s been sick all night. Last I was in there, Mother and the healers were still trying to bring down the fever.”

“Oh.”

Hela lifted herself to her feet, ignoring her father’s outstretched hand offered in assistance. “I should go.”

“Yes, go get something to eat,” Odin said.

“I’d rather sleep,” Hela replied, turning away from him.

“Hela,” her father stopped her with one word.

She would not turn to look at him. “ _What?_ ” she downright growled.

Whatever Odin might have intended to say, he did not. Instead Thor piped up, “Want ‘ella.”

“Come on, little brother.” She turned and took Thor from her father’s arms. “Let’s go get some breakfast…in bed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first posted February 12, 2018  
> edited March 12, 2018
> 
> If Thor needed a hammer to contain his powers, there must have been a time before the hammer when he used them indiscriminately. Thus, a baby who cries up storms.
> 
> Bor is Odin's father and Thor's grandfather, mentioned in the second movie. I don't know much about his canonical character, either in the Myths or Marvel, but I'll probably bring him into the story sometime later.


	4. Brother's Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Blue baby is sister."

Thor ate half a roast henfowl and a dozen sweet rolls, a light breakfast for the toddler. He got crumbs all over Hela's pristine bed-sheets and left greasy fingerprints on the collection of potion bottles on her nightstand.

Hela did not even notice. She sipped on a warm blend of milk and spices, and flicked through the views available on her palantir, shifting through Asgardian faces and voices too quickly for Thor to take much interest. The spheroid communications device kept buzzing with messages, but the teenager silenced it with a wave and continued scrolling.

Still, Thor knew how a palantir was used. "Look it Figga?" he asked when he was finally bored with their breakfast in bed.

"We can't call Mother right now," Hela explained, absentmindedly, still focused on the device. "She's preoccupied with the Jotun baby."

"Look it blue baby?"

“No, I don’t want to.”

“Blue baby sick, ‘ella.”

“Yes, I know, Thor.” Hela finally sat up to glare at her young brother. “And I don’t care. That baby is—”

“—Sister.” Thor intentionally interrupted, a first for him.

Hela was surprised, then confused. “What did you say?” she asked him. “What do you mean?”

“Blue baby is sister, ‘ella.”

“No. No, no, no, no.” Hela shook her head, confusion giving way to humor. “I’m your sister, she’s not… no.” The teenager finished with a chuckle, hoping the matter was settled.

But Thor’s face had crunched up tight with red cheeks and tears in his eyes. “Want sister! Want blue baby sister!”

Hela could say nothing to stop the flood of tears; even the honeycomb candy she pulled out of her nightstand could not quiet Thor. Her large window to the garden outside showed the sky quickly turning stormy.

A maidservant hurried into the room to pick up the crying toddler. “Shall I take him back to the nursery, my lady?”

“Yes, go.” Hela clutched at her throbbing head. “Get him out of here.”

***

Thor calmed as the maidservant walked through the empty halls of the palace. He rubbed at his eyes with chubby little fists. “Figga? Want Figga.”

“Your mama will come see you soon, little prince,” the servant rubbed his back as she carried him. “She’s just a little busy now with the sick baby.”

“Baby sister sick.”

“I don’t know that she is your sister, little prince. She could be, I guess, since the All-Father claimed her. He is your father, too, after all.”

“Want baby sister. Go to baby sister.” Thor declared.

He started squirming in the servant’s arms, and she had to stop for a moment and shift her grip on him to carry him safely. Only Thor was stronger than the servant expected. He wriggled free, plopped down to the ground, and took to his little feet, running behind a large planter in the hallway. She cornered him there, but could not catch him.

“Prince Thor, please,” the servant pleaded, down on her knees. “Don’t run off and get me in trouble, too. Look, I must take you to the nursery, but then I’ll go ask how the baby is doing. Maybe she’ll be feeling better, and then I’ll help you go visit her. How about that, little prince?”

“Baby sister sick. Go help baby sister.” Thor looked ready to start bawling again, and the temperature in the corridor was quickly dropping. The maidservant was already shivering, but then, she nodded.

“Now, that just might work. Come, let’s go help your baby sister.”

***

A small crowd of palace workers had gathered around the door to the queen’s bedchamber, waiting for news. When the maidservant carrying Thor knocked on the door, the queen opened it herself. “Begging your pardon, my lady, but he insisted on seeing the baby.”

Frigga was too weary to consider arguing with anyone, especially her toddler son. She simply took him out of the servant’s arms. “Thor, I’m sorry. Your little cold must have been too strong for the Jotun baby.”

“Is she…?” the servant tried to ask.

Frigga shook her head, still standing in the doorway. “Not yet, but soon. Everything we’ve tried: magic, potions and medicine, it’s not enough. This fever will destroy her.”

“If I may, my lady, I think Thor may be able to help.” Quickly the servant explained her idea to the queen.

“It’s risky,” Frigga said. “I don’t want Thor to be here if—when Loki…”

“—Help ‘oki?” Thor piped up, a little cloud forming above his head. Both the women stared down at him, unable to say anything as they watched. “Hot ‘oki want cold?” The cloud grew, covering Thor and Frigga both, and snowflakes silently drifted down to the carpet of the palace hallway.

In a bone-weary daze, Frigga lifted a hand to catch some of the flakes, holding it up to watch as they melted on her warm palm.

In the room behind her, a figure moved to the doorway. Odin was there, and he came and laid a hand on her tense shoulder, then on Thor’s golden hair sparkling with snowflakes. “We might try it,” he said, not as an order from the king, but a request as a husband and a father.

Frigga nodded without speaking. She left the maidservant standing in the doorway and carried Thor over to the tiny sickbed. Loki lay unmoving on a thin blanket, the moan of each difficult breath the only evidence that she still lived.

“Blue baby?” Thor said, reaching out his chubby arms to her. Frigga would not set the toddler down until he pushed at her constraining arm around his waist. “Need cold now. Need me. Want baby sister.”

The cloud was building above his head, the snowfall growing heavier. Frigga put him down right beside Loki, and Thor immediate crawled over to wrap his arms around her. “Ouch, ‘oki, hot,” he said, but held on anyway.

The first snowflakes melted and evaporated almost as soon as they touched her hot, blue skin. Then Thor scrunched up his chubby face in fierce concentration, and the soft flakes slowly turned to sleet. The icy raindrops pattered down on the two children, spilled off the bed and went scattering over the floor. A wind picked up in the bedchamber, rustling and then blustering every hanging cloth and loose sheet of paper in the room. Frigga turned from the sight, burying her face in Odin’s chest.

So it went, for a quarter of an hour.

Then, in the midst of the storm, Loki’s tiny blue hand reached out to grasp at the frozen raindrops. She gurgled and cooed at the sleet-storm falling around her. “Sister ‘oki,” Thor said so softly that even his parents nearby did not hear him, then he said, “Blue baby cold now.”

Frigga pushed through the rapidly dissipating storm to lay a hand on Loki’s cool forehead. “It’s miraculous; the fever’s passed.”

“No,” Odin said, and he picked up both of them in one arm. Loki cooed and Thor threw his arms around his father’s neck as he bore them out to the expectant crowd of servants. “It’s a victory.”

***

Thor had an even larger appetite at lunch, eating two meat pies, a whole loaf of bread, and half a dozen apples. Odin sat with him in his lap while Frigga breastfed Loki nearby. The family was completed when Hela arrived, rested and bathed, with Brunnhilde alongside her.

“No reason to worry, I see,” Brunnhilde said, taking her seat with Frigga while Hela went to the food on the table. “My lady was saying it might be better to wait on the tournament for the Valkyrie, at least until the baby’s illness was resolved. It’s good to see that Loki is well, and there is cause for celebration in the house of Odin.”

“Hela was saying?” Odin asked, pointedly staring at his daughter as she dug into her plate. Hela rubbed at her bandaged face, then she nodded.

“Will you compete, my friend, to stand as a Valkyrie at my daughter’s side?” Frigga asked Brunnhilde.

“No need, I already am one. We discussed it before with the other shield-maidens; and Var, Vor and I have all earned our places at Hela’s side on the battlefields of Jotunheim. The four of us will confer together to choose a dozen more Valkyrie from the tournament results.”

“I have some suggestions of the young women I know who might compete,” Frigga said, and the two of them continued their discussion in low voices, huddled together on the couch.

Hela ate, and Thor yawned in Odin’s lap. The little boy’s eyes were heavy, and he finally gave into his exhaustion and closed them. In a few moment he was snoring louder than his thunder.

“I heard about what happened,” Hela said, leaning back in her seat after she finished eating. “Thor’s getting strong, maybe too strong, for one so young. His magic ought to be bound to avoid any unfortunate results of its use.”

“I doubt,” Odin began, “that even if Thor’s magic grows unwieldy, he would choose to use it for any ill-conceived reason. But I shall take this into consideration, perhaps a weapon to help him channel it while he trains and grows.”

“No, not a weapon,” Hela said, “a _tool_ …a hammer, perhaps?”

Odin smiled. “Perhaps.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first posted February 17, 2018  
> edited March 12, 2018
> 
> Next planned story coming in mid-to-late March.
> 
> The Palantir comes from Tolkien's Lord of the Rings. I thought it would fit in well on Asgard. Think of it as a cellphone-type device.
> 
> Hela also suggests Thor's hammer. Maybe she'll try to wield the power contained within. I don't know how I'll write it yet.

**Author's Note:**

> I started thinking about this a month before Thor: Ragnarok came out, and I was only more inspired after seeing the movie. Hela and Brunnhilde's lines may be OOC, but I'll fix that after I get the DVD and watch it again.


End file.
